The Pensieve
by Mourning Peaches
Summary: There are many fanfics about the night the Potter's died, but what about the day before? Dumbledore looks back and remembers his last conversation with Lily Potter. One-shot. Please R&R!


**AN - **I don't know where this idea came from, but I knew i couldn't leave it in the folder with all my other brilliant ideas at the time that by now I have half forgottenand marked 'to do' - the bits that I do remember being total crap of course. Which is why I'm posting this instead of the next chapter of CoS. Sorry, I'm going on holiday too, so it will be another week, though i'll try to write while I'm there, I just don't seem to get the same ideas with a pen and paper as I do typing, not fast enough to scribble it all down I suppose.

Anyway... this didn't end up as it was planned, it was supposed to be the story of both Lily and James last worries to Dumbledore, and originally, James would arrive almost immediately after Lily had left and say almost exactly the same. Yet I was writing and this way just seemed to work better, but I still liked the idea of both of them saying the same thing without realising what the other was doing, so I wrote in the mention of James having talked to Dumbledore the day before. It's turned out as Dumbledore's last memory of Lily, but I think it fits quite well, but I want to know your thoughts to!

**AN (21/3/05)** - Sorry! I wrote this knowing that it was in OotP Headquarters so I forgot to mention it in the story, thanks to those who reminded me that it appeared to be in Hogwarts (Diet Vanilla Pepsi and -sigh- DevilShoes). Changes made now so it makes sense!

**Disclaimer - **I do not own the characters or plot of Harry Potter, not a smidgen of it.

Hey, wouldn't it great if you could buy a section of the plot or a character or something and give it as a birthday or Xmas present? That would be brilliant! I'd have the presents for all my friends sorted then! Ah well, I'll have to settle with giving out the books. Damn shame though.

**Summary **- There are many fics about the night the Potter's died, but what about the day before? Dumbledore looks back and remembers his last conversation with Lily Potter. One-shot. Please R&R!

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**The Pensieve**

_by Nestlé_

Albus Dumbledore barely registered the bird in front of him, so lost in his thoughts he was. But then again, the bird barely registered Albus, except for the gentle stroking of his fire-red plumage; Fawkes was no more aware of his owner than Albus was of him.

It takes a great friendship to be able to sit in comfortable silence and just _think_ in each other's presence. To have that friendship with a magical creature was even more marvelling, which is why Albus had long ago stopped referring to Fawkes as his pet; he was, as much as any wizard, a loyal friend, and equal.

The two great minds were sat in silence, as they were prone to do, Albus unconsciously moving his hand to stroke the blazing feathers, and Fawkes inclining his head every now and again in appreciation. To any spectators, both wizard and bird would appear to be in a dreamlike trance and, in a sense, they were.

We cannot begin to imagine what thoughts Fawkes, mythical creature that he is, could be considering. With Albus, you might stand a better chance, though not by much, but these were not good times, and Albus' thoughts were focused on the student and boy who seemed to attract bad times like a bear to a honeycomb.

Harry Potter, of course.

Albus remembered his parents well; anyone who ever met them could not help but do so, even more so after their death. Remarkable people, in similar and yet also completely different ways, they were almost surreally suited to each other. Albus had had the blessing of meeting many extraordinary people, and Lily and James Potter were among the best of them.

Some flicker of silver caught his eye, and he turned to look at his pensieve. He had tried to set his mind aside from most of the memories in that rune bowl; scared to turn out like his brother, who spent every day living in the memories of his dead wife and daughter, and seemed incapable of being pulled away from them. Aberforth had been living among the dead since the first war, and he himself now seemed to be another name on the list of casualties. Not dead, but not completely alive either. His brother was just one of the problems Albus could not fix.

Not for the first time, Albus couldn't help but wonder that, even with these severe warnings, hiding old memories could possibly do more harm than good. Sighing at his conflicting emotions, Albus crossed the room; apologising to Fawkes who had flown across to his perch in annoyance at being disturbed, and picked up the pensieve. Sitting back down, he realised he would probably regret this, but he couldn't bring himself to worry about any more. Sparing one last minute to change his mind, Albus let himself be pulled back into the silvery waves of his memories…

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" A timid voice spoke from the direction of the doorway.

A slightly younger and much more weary Albus glanced up from the letters he had been writing, or trying to write, letters of condolence to the families of dead ones did not come easily.

"Lily dear, how many times must I ask you to call me Albus?"

The red haired woman grinned and even with the bags under her eyes and her strained tiredness it was a beautiful smile no less.

"Oh, I don't suppose I'll ever lose the habit of 'professor'" She replied, suddenly seeming very far away as she remembered the days of sheltered protection at Hogwarts.

Albus guessed quite quickly why she had come, what would make her risk the journey here to talk to him. After all, had not James arrived unexpectedly just yesterday to talk to him also?

Lily glanced up again quickly, remembering why she had made the very short, and very risky trip to here. Even the Order of the Pheonix Headquarters were no longer safe, very few knew it, but there was a spy amongst them. "Can I come in?"

"Of course you can. Though I must remind you of how dangerous it is for you to be outside of Godric's Hollow. The Fidelius Charm can only protect you if-"

For the first time in her life, Lily Potter interrupter an elder, and most surprising of all, it was to someone she admired above nearly all people.

She had changed, they all had. War did that to people.

"Sir, I know the risks, but it was urgent I talked to you."

Albus noted the desperation in her voice and eyes, and nodded for her to speak.

The woman who was aged beyond her years sighed heavily, and Albus could almost see the walls she kept her emotions secured behind fall away before his eyes.

"I don't think I can do it anymore." She gushed, leaning forward over the desk pleadingly, "I'm so tired, so very tired of it all. Yet I can't bring myself to sleep, with Harry crying and-" She faltered, looking down at her hands, emotions and fears spilling out as quickly as her words did.

"I keep feeling as if we'll be attacked at any moment, I trust P-Sirius with all my heart, but I so frightened for James and Harry. What if I'm injured, or I die? What will happen to Harry? And James? I'm trying my very hardest to stay strong for them both, I am, really. But-" She sniffed, and wiped away the tears that were spilled freely down her cheeks.

Albus noted sorrowfully that these were almost identical sentiments to what James had said yesterday, with names reversed, James had said that he didn't tell Lily where or why he had gone; he hadn't wanted her to worry and couldn't let her know he was losing confidence. Albus didn't doubt that Lily had done the same, they were both so stubborn, they didn't realise how alike they were.

"This isn't right." She said forcefully. "This isn't the life James and I were supposed to have, this isn't what we had planned and this isn't the world my baby was supposed to grow up in. Where he could be killed at any second? Where he will spend his whole life threatened with death, just because some prophecy was made about him before he was even born! And his parents can't do anything except sit and hide and hope for the best, even when it seems that it has already been foretold that the best will never come? It is wrong! Everything is wrong- nothing is like it was supposed to be!"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed whatever she had been about to say. Closing her eyes briefly, she looked up at her old professor and mentor, eyes beseeching him to give her an ounce of hope – something to sustain her optimism. Albus stared back at her, sympathy and remorse shown distinctly in his warm gaze.

"Please… I'm so terrified for us all." She whispered barely audible to the man she was pleading with, though in truth she was pleading with the whole world. Albus was just the beacon; the symbol of hope that could encourage her to carry on, and persuade everything to be as it should be.

Though, in the deepest part of her heart she knew; knew that Albus Dumbledore was just a single man, and that these were false hopes she carried. One man could not change the whole world, no matter how hard she pleaded, begged and prayed.

Albus grasped her thin, pale hands in his own old ones, and hated himself for what he had to say next to her, "Lily dear, that is why we are here; to change the world so that others after us may live as we hope to. No one can live without sacrifices; for us, I fear, those sacrifices will be great, but they will ensure that your child will live in a safer and more secure world. That Harry, at least, has a better life. I cannot promise you it will come true, but I can promise to try my utmost hardest to see that it does.

"Nothing is ever certain Lily, that is why we have to be strong, you have to be strong – so we can face together whatever they throw at us. For your husband, and your son."

It was a speech to be proud of, but it was not praised; it only brought more tears to the listener's eyes, and pained the heart of the speaker. Albus knew the world had gone very wrong at some point, to let such innocent people suffer so, and force young families like the Potter's to fear for their lives. He wished with all his heart he could change it all; give these people a chance at a decent life. Yet all his old bones seemed good for was kindling a small amount of hope in their bleak futures.

Kill or be killed; that was the message that life gave out, and the prophecy had spoken it more bluntly than he thought possible, despite it's riddles.

Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort - the world's fate rested on a baby boy and a twisted, evil wizard who was barely a man anymore.

Words; all Albus had was words. They might spur hope and trust right now, but when the final battle came; they would be useless.

Albus watched the woman before him; who part of him still saw as a young girl new to Hogwarts and the wizarding world – how things had changed since then. She nodded to herself and him, wiping her red eyes and blotchy face.

"I ought to get back now. I'm putting them all in danger." She said quietly, smoothing down her robes and not looking up. Finally, she managed to control her glistening eyes, and meet the gaze of the man in front of her.

"Thank you Albus." Were her last words before she Apparated away; a half second later, Albus realised she had not called him Professor. A sad smile reached his lips as he turned reluctantly back to the letters. They will be all right, he told himself; they had to be.

The next day was October 31st, 1981; Halloween, and the night the Potter's were killed.


End file.
